


By the Moonlight

by Ena2705



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blind Sam, Bunker, Dean cares for his brother, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Jess - Freeform, PTSD, Piano, Protective Dean Winchester, blind!Sam, car crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 01:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15037697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ena2705/pseuds/Ena2705
Summary: Sam gets badly injured in a car accident and may never be able to see again.





	1. Chapter 1

He felt for the black key, then the next one. His other hand stroked the ivory keys until he felt the ones he was looking for. G#, C#, E. He took a deep breath and started playing. His abilities may have vanished a long time ago, but as he tapped note by note, he could feel the power of the music running through him, massaging his tense muscles, relaxing the frown on his face. His imagination led him to another world, one where he was clad in an old timey tuxedo, and staring in awe at the beautiful young woman stood before him, wearing the most exquisite blue ball gown, made of the finest materials. Jess, the love of his life. His Jessica. He felt a warm sensation running down his cheeks and as they started to dance, he realized they were tears. The salty tears were both of happiness, seeing her again, and of sadness and pain. For he knew that what he saw was not real. He was not in a ball room. He was not dancing with Jess, not at all dead. And suddenly he hit a wrong note, the image in his head shattering, and reality crashing back into him at 100mph.

He stayed that way for a moment, fingers lightly touching the cool keys, back hunched over. “I…I didn’t know you played.” His brother spoke softly. Sam turned his head to the source of the voice and smiled what he thought to look like a sad smile. “First year of college, some one was offering lessons and I always wanted to learn.” His hands fell to his lap. “But between hunting and school work, I never had the time or opportunity. And then I stopped hunting, needed something to fill the time.” He heard his brother take a few steps closer. “You play beautifully. When we get you discharged, would you like one of these things in the bunker?” Sam’s face lit up, and Dean laughed a truly heartfelt laugh at his response. It was the first time since Sam awoke from his coma that he heard that noise, and it was a better noise than any silly old tune he could play. For in that moment, Sam knew that even though it was likely he mightn’t ever see again, everything was going to be okay.

-

The accident replayed in his head that night, like it did every night since they got home. The screeching of tires, the way his head jolted forward and hit the dashboard as he heard baby’s metal frame crush, his brother calling out his name, and then nothing. He awoke in a cold sweat, shaking with fear and pain in every muscle in his body. He opened his eyes, not like it did much, and shut them once again in anguish. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ He called out for his brother, hating feeling helpless, but Dean’s soothing voice would help calm him down. It had done since he was a child, bed ridden with fever, Dean stroking his sweaty wet hair and lulling him back to sleep. Barely a moment later, he was at Sam’s bedside, holding his shaking hands. And a moment after that, he was leading him to the piano stool.

Concentrating on the keys helped distract Sam from his bad dreams, they discovered. He was intensely grateful for his brother’s help, and so decided to play what was now to Dean the greatest song in the world. The same song that Sam had first played in that hospital room all those weeks ago. This time though, he finished playing without his fingers hitting a wrong note. The muscle memory was building back up after not playing for so long. Calloused fingers touched his own, lifting them off the keys and to a cheek stubbly from not shaving. Deans cheek. His fingers were wet, Dean was crying. “That was amazing, Sammy.” came a soft whisper. He didn’t feel so helpless anymore, not totally incompetent. He opened his eyes and could vaguely make out Dean’s shadow. It was better than nothing.

“We will find a way to heal you.”


	2. Chapter 2

His fingertips traced the higher keys, brushing the dust from them into the air around him. He coughed lightly as it irritated his throat. Those notes were left unplayed mostly, bar the time he tried and miserably failed to teach Dean ‘Heart and Soul’. _“I can’t even see the keys I’m tapping and I can play better than you” Sam laughed, earning a playful punch in response._ A faint smile danced across his face at the memory. His choice in melody tended to focus more on the deeper notes, the darker emotions evoked. He didn’t do this purposely, but it seemed that every time he sat at the stool and placed his fingers on the keys, his mind tried to see, his soul calling out to the world around him, and when he started to play, it was always a reflection of the darkness that engulfed his vision. 

The burn of hot coffee still fresh on his lips, Sam sat down to start playing fir the day. Piano wasn’t all that he did now that he had to stop hunting (by Dean’s request), but today had particularly bad weather and nothing good to listen to on TV. A tune was nagging at the back of his mind, and no matter how hard he tried to play over it, he just couldn’t play in time to the song. Giving up with a dramatic sigh, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the tune. Not that closing his eyes actually did anything, but the familiar action helped him concentrate. Now that it was more forefront, he could start to feel a sense of recognition. Humming along until he got to the chorus, Sam realised that it was Metallica’s “The Unforgiven” that was stuck in his head. An odd choice, considering he hadn’t heard that song in months, and never before had he played it on the piano. Learning a new song was a lot harder nowadays. He couldn’t read it from a book, nor could he google the sheet music. Instead he had to rely on playing and learning by ear, which was incredibly frustrating and he hated doing so. He couldn’t just play the same fifteen or so songs on repeat for the rest of his life though, and he wasn’t in the worst of moods today, so he set about learning it.

-

A couple hours later and he was finally satisfied with the first few seconds of the song, sure that was how it went. He pressed the rewind button on the machine and the cassette rolled back up. He stopped it, and pressed play for what felt like the thousandth time that day. This time, however, he played along to it, and a bright smile lit up his face because he had gotten it right. _Small victories, Sammy._ He heard Dean’s voice in his head. No, he corrected himself, not in his head. He stood and walked over to the table, feeling for his brother with outstretched arms. And there, not five feet away from the latest addition to the bunker’s library where Sam spent most of his days, was Dean, bottle of beer in hand. “How long have you been sat there?” Sam hadn’t heard his brother enter the room, and his hearing had heightened since the accident. Dean chuckled before responding. “I’ve been here the whole time, before you even came in.” Oh, so that meant Dean had been witness to all of his fits of frustration the last few hours. It wasn’t easy playing by ear, just when you thought you’d figured something out, you hit a sour note and anger bubbles inside you. At least, that was what happened for Sam. 

Changing the topic for fear that his cheeks were reddening, he asked: “Any word from Cas?” The now empty beer bottle landed against the tabletop. “Unfortunately not, I’m afraid.” Dean said, trying to maintain a nonchalant tone of voice, but Sam sensed the fear behind it. Fear for the fallen angel, but also fear for Sam, because in Dean’s mind, the longer it took to fix his brother, the less likely it would be that they could actually fix him, Sam knew. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to comfort his elder brother, tell him that it was okay, Cas is probably fine, and he would be too. “How’re the braille lessons coming along?” Dean asked. They had found a special sort of typewriter in one of the bunker’s storage rooms that wrote in braille. Sam enjoyed the challenge of learning a new language, and could read everything almost perfectly now. That wasn’t new to him though, when he was in the cage, he picked up Enochian pretty speedily, as well as any and every other language Lucifer threw at him. He had to learn things fast down there, because if he mistranslated an order, the punishment would be twice as bad as previously planned by the devil himself. “Alright, just learning a few more bits and bobs and then I’ll be ready to write a novel.” He joked, trying to shrug off the memories of the cage but truth be told, ever since he lost his vision, Sam had the cage on his mind. The darkness was so familiar to one of his torture methods that it was impossible to blank it out. 

“We will find a way to heal you.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven’t guessed by the title and the keys mentioned, Sam is playing Moonlight Sonata. Sorry if my terminology sucks, I only play casually


End file.
